Laus Mortis

Nay, why should I fear Death,
Who gives us life, and in exchange takes breath?

He is like cordial Spring
That lifts above the soil each buried thing; —

Like Autumn, kind and brief —
The frost that chills the branches frees the leaf; —

Like Winter's stormy hours
That spread their fleece of snow to save the flowers.

The lordliest of all things, —
Life lends us only feet, Death gives us wings!

Fearing no covert thrust,
Let me walk onward, armed with valiant trust.

Dreading no unseen knife,
Across Death's threshold step from life to life!

O all ye frightened folk,
Whether ye wear a crown or bear a yoke,

Laid in one equal bed,
When once your coverlet of grass is spread,

What daybreak need you fear?
The love will rule you there which guides you here!

Where Life, the Sower, stands,
Scattering the ages from his swinging hands,

Thou waitest, Reaper lone,
Until the multitudinous grain hath grown;

Scythe-bearer, when thy blade
Harvests my flesh, let me be unafraid!

God's husbandman thou art! —
In His unwithering sheaves, O bind my heart!